


Day 15: Into The Unknown- Science Gone Wrong

by Fight_Surrender



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Baz Helps Out, Comfort and Snark, Help, M/M, Magic and Science, Not Beta Read, Physics, Science and Stuff, Spell Failure, Watford Sixth Year, Whumptober 2020, i have no idea how to tag this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27071119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fight_Surrender/pseuds/Fight_Surrender
Summary: Simon tries to erase his fingerprints on an order from the Mage and things go awry. Baz helps out.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950466
Comments: 8
Kudos: 61
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Day 15: Into The Unknown- Science Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm super behind on these, but life is in the way and the prompts are hard! For the record, I hate physics, but I've always thought the fact that friction makes your fingerprints work is super cool. So, whatever physics errors are in this, take them with a grain of salt, this is art <3
> 
> Love you all.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Snow?”

Simon is spread out like a starfish in the middle of his bed, fully dressed, eyes wild. The room is a mess. Books and papers all over the floor, his desk chair on its side. “I can’t move,” he gasps.

“Pity you can still move your mouth.” I reach into the wardrobe for my coat, I’m not sticking around for whatever personal drama Snow has gotten himself into.

“I mean, I can move—,” He makes to get up and immediately tumbles off the bed, landing on the floor with a grunt. Snow tries to right himself and slips, careening across the floor in a slow circle, legs akimbo. He looks like Bambi on ice. He’s been at this awhile, judging by the sheen of sweat darkening his hair and the flush beneath his freckles.

Snow tries to grab the desk to pull himself up but he can’t get a grip. “Fucking hell,” he grunts, and just lays on the floor on his back, slowly gliding toward the door.

“What did you do?” I am too intrigued to be snarky.

Simon’s slow progression stops when he bumps gently into the wall. He lays there, staring at the ceiling. “I think I’ve reversed my coefficient of friction.”

“Pardon?”

He casts his eyes at me, grimaces. “Friction, the force that resists surfaces from sliding against each other. We just covered it in Magickal Physics.”

“I know what friction is, Snow. I’m in your class.” I start to have impure thoughts about methods of friction I’d like to employ with him.

“Yeah, well,” Snow interrupts my musings before they get out of hand, “I think I’ve reversed mine.”

I definitely don’t want to ask this, but academic curiosity insists I do. “How—” I wave my hand in his general direction. “Did this all come about?”

Simon sighs. He stretches and clasps his hands behind his head. “I was trying to remove my fingerprints.”

I think I need to sit for this. The bedsprings creak as I take a seat. “Why would you do that?”

Snow looks back at the ceiling. Swallows. _I don’t want to hear this_. “The Mage ordered it. For my protection.”

I rub my temples. Close my eyes in case he can read my murderous thoughts. _I fucking knew it._

“He told me to use acid. But when Dr. Tesla mentioned that friction is what makes fingerprints grippy, I thought maybe reversing it would remove the prints.” He rubs his chin. “In hindsight, that’s pretty stupid.” More quietly, “But I really don’t want to dip my fingers in acid.”

_Just when I thought I couldn’t hate the Mage more_. I move closer to him, settling cross-legged on the floor in his space. “What spell did you use?”

Snow bites his lip. “I didn’t use a spell, really.”

“Then how did you do it?”

“My magic just does things sometimes, if I want them badly enough. I thought about the equation, F=uN. I thought about reversing it.”

“Not so FuN is it?” I can’t help myself.

“Ha. Ha.” Simon grumbles.

“So, do the opposite? Can’t you just think about un-reversing the equation?”

“I tried that, Baz.” Simon growls, “I’m not as thick as you think I am.”

“I’m not the one who can’t stand up.” I lay down alongside him.

“What’s the opposite of friction?” I wonder out loud.

Simon closes his eyes. The room goes quiet as we ponder together.

“Force?” Snow says quietly.

I look over at him. “Newtons second law?”

Snow looks back. It’s a look I’ve never seen directed at me. Soft. Open. “Force equals mass times acceleration.”

“That could work, Snow. Try it.”

“I could also end up crushed into a bloody pulp.”

“I have faith.”

Snows brows come down. Searching my face for malfeasance. I don’t have it in me right now.

“All right then.” He closes his eyes. I see his magic bending the air around him like a heat wave. There’s a crease between his brows as he concentrates. I want to smooth it with my thumb.

His blue eyes open. They meet mine. “Did it work?” I ask.

Simon sits up. Stands. “Reckon so.” He holds his hand out to me. My dead heart does a little flip as I take his hand and pull myself up. “Thanks,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” I say. I need to let go of his hand. Reluctantly, I do. “For the record,” I step out of his space, it’s too much. Too close. “You can disguise your fingerprints with glue. No acid needed.”

Simon scrunches his face delightfully at me. “How do you even know that?”

“Minor larceny from my rebellious youth, Snow.” I quirk my brow, “You only _think_ you know everything about me.”

“Duly noted,” Simon says, gathering his things for a shower. He stops at the door to the en suite, “Thanks for not being a dick.”

“Yeah,” I say, with hardly enough venom. “Don’t get used to it.”


End file.
